Results for: the urgency move you
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Realism (Pick Up the Pieces) by Dave Rousselle There are a lot of different meanings to the word 'realism' but mine does not apply to any (More) There are a lot of different meanings to the word 'realism' but mine does not apply to any of these. See my bulletin for an explanation of the song. The video is shot Roger Williams University, my university in Bristol, Rhode Island. It's beside the dazzling Mount Hope bridge on the shores of Mount Hope Bay. "Realism (Pick Up the Pieces)" cease from urgency just clear the mind stumble on a clue some may fear to find like a needle in the pore in deep it drives indeed creates a sore but feeds our lives show what you ignore open your eyes stumble to the floor -ego vulnerized it was overlooked before draw near to find it's tiny from perspective but it's large in size I feel the same it's hard to find Realism. Realism. I look but who says I should care it's hard to find Realism. So I just... [CHORUS] Move on. Pick Up the Pieces All that's left is excess Disperse to space Move on. Pick Up the Pieces All unworthy ones To fade, and they fade...move on. true to my name I'll strive to find Realism. Realism. someone to share someone to share Realism. So I still... [CHORUS] the pieces picked up are what I have now that's real what's real is what I feel, I feel what is real and that's whole, whole all the excess a mess is what I feel I'm stickin' to my pieces stickin' to what I know, I know [CHORUS] 2X (Less)
The Great Unknown (2) by Charles Bryant Here where light is variable, understanding like the day and night, illuminations few and far (More) Here where light is variable, understanding like the day and night, illuminations few and far between, excavate the living ground, piece and pare consciousness of being. No one better to do the work, to learn and earn a living, earn a life. This beloved, sleepy, dreamy, slow and long the sun drenched afternoon, hidden in the silken screen in the hidden secret palace. Chamber with the moving walls, now small, now vast, at the labyrinth's centre, behind the moat and earthworks. Beloved, myriad, many faced, changing aspect, changing mood, delighting in deception, outward aspect of my inner self, gateway and portal to the inner place. In the foggy marshland, in the waste, seeping inward from the muddy sea comes a note of caution on the wind, comes a scent of blossom, comes to me a music and a mystery. By the fire in the cold dim light memories of past years gather, torment the troubled watcher listener as he stirs the flame. Victory robs us of victory. In the rafters speaking voices whisper of the distant land that he once saw, of the golden gleaming shore and of the firm brown hand that held the promise of more much more delight than any heretofore. Of the beautiful face and the mystic mind, of the tower in the castle where the mystery unravelled slowly and real things were said and done to clear the world's obscurity: there was priceless treasure won. Wait; we only have to wait and be secure against the troubled time. The heap of treasure by the open door cannot be spent, it rusteth evermore. But treasure in the mind is sure, the gently flowing mind secure, but only for a while against the world. The great emptiness awaits us, into it we go who came from thence. It is the most beautiful of all beautiful things and rings with music, incense; and the scents of flowers there flow in silver streams; emptiness is filled with dreams emptiness is filled with love; but empty emptiness is best of all, far best of all. Gods call and demigods aspire; only God, ourself, is higher and emptier than all, so empty the universe cannot fill its emptiness, which is empty still. Praise the Oneness; love the absent Lord. All are chosen; all are called into the empty Void. To the wrecked comes courage; foolish resolution upholds the dam against despair where nothing really matters after all. In the distance stands the gleaming tower; and in the tower, light. Mind endures though brain decays. The universal mind has so much music it never once repeats a tune. Listen and learn what in a distant galaxy they sing. Let the lunar light shine internally, strange music foment the mystical mood. Small lights shift and shimmer through dark undergrowth. Let the waiting female crawl to illumination of unearthly secrecy; pandemonium commence; ugliness and loveliness alternately predominate; white illumination turn to grey. To force the mind to move beyond the usual concept. Leave the road and wander in the forest. Do not be afraid of darkness. The blind man cannot see when he looks at the sun but he can feel the warmth upon his face. We use the mind to go beyond the mind. We use the Me to go beyond the Me. Do not be afraid to wander off into the vastness of eternal being. A welcome waits even beyond the stars. In a distant corner you will find yourself and wonder how you laid yourself aside. The journey is for everyone. When it is completed you will find a world you never thought you would see. In the garden in the sudden stillness he sensed the lovely presence a long way off, awaited its approach as if it were a person. Here in the water let him lay for many a night and many a day; here let him sooth his aching mind; here let him see where eyes are blind. What in the watery depths is found shimmering silver and gold around from fishes scales and fishes tails the wandering mind that dips and sails. Hubbling and bubbling toiling and troubling; the fire burns and the water heats. The unknown nemesis greets the flesh that floats on water. Father, mother, son and daughter, rolled into one the godhead stirs. And false desires send a geyser gushing through the steam. He floats there lingering in his dream. Dividing lines and boundaries are gone; there is nothing he can call his own; nothing but the sense of urgency that buffets him relentlessly. (Less)
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